Seven Day Fool
by arbitraryink
Summary: Sometimes, you need a little more. Derek-centric. Part 1/2.


Disclaimer: All characters and concepts belonging to the Life With Derek universe are the sole property of Daphne Ballon and Family. No copyright infringement is intended, nor will this project be used for profit of any kind. The song _Seven Day Fool_ belongs to Billy Davis.

Author Note: This is not a songfic, but _has_ been sitting around on my hard drive for the better part of a year. I actually really hate the song itself (but one must admit, it's catchy!). The next installment of _Stand in the Rain_ will (hopefully) be coming along in the near future.

Part 1 of 2.

**Seven Day Fool**

_and I'll be your seven day fool -_

The first day is a Monday and you can feel the tension in the air even before you arrive. It doesn't surprise you that Smitty's is packed; your mother has always warned you against rude or gaudy displays in public places, and there are few places more public than a popular family restaurant. The one thing your father doesn't want is for you to attract unnecessary attention. You've also anticipated sitting in the booth shaped like a horseshoe, and you know that your father will order coffee, black, in an attempt to iron out his nerves. When he remembers after the first sip that he doesn't _like_ coffee, you know that he'll pass it to you and instead order Cokes all night.

You think you're prepared – well, as best you can be when meeting the family of your father's lady friend – but what you don't anticipate is the instinctive tightening of your stomach muscles the second _she_ comes into view. You don't anticipate it at first, but you almost immediately accept that those stomach muscles will never unclench, and that you'll have to force down the plate of buttermilk pancakes you've been looking forward to all week. It isn't fair in the least, because the way she wrinkles her nose when she takes in your old jeans and shabby tee makes you feel nervous. Your stomach roils, and you ask Marti to trade places so you can sit by the booth's opening (just in case).

She is wearing a dress – light, loose, pink with flowers – and you're reminded of summer even as you wonder why she'd dress up to go to _Smitty's._ The skirt only reaches her knees but her legs keep going, and as she waits for her mother to crawl into the booth next to your father, she crosses them, then taps one heeled foot impatiently. You can't take your eyes off her legs, at least, not until Marti starts to squirm and knocks her elbow into your stomach. "Smerek," she whispers, casting wary looks at the two girls Nora brought with her, "Are they more pretty than me?"

Your first instinct is not to lie; to say, "Yes, Marti, she's pretty. She's beautiful. You simply falter in comparison," but you don't because you don't talk like that, and anyway, this is your best girl sitting beside you now. So, instead, you answer with what she wants to hear. "You're the prettiest girl in the whole entire world."

_She_ has been listening closely, proven when her face relaxes and the line between her brows smooth and she casts you a cautious smile. Instantly, you decide that you will take Marti with you everywhere, if treating your baby sister like a princess means that this new queen would smile at you. Her smile changes her face, and you change your mind. She's not beautiful. Her nose is too big and her eyes squint and her two front teeth are larger than the rest. She's perfect.

When your father begins introducing you and your siblings to Nora's children, you aren't listening, and so you don't catch her name. You think it must be something smooth and old-fashioned. Elizabeth, maybe, or Catherine. Abigail. Miranda. She looks like all of these names and you wonder if you should address her by one just to see whether she answers. You almost start, but the breath catches in your throat and you decide no, not this time. When you can breathe again, you will try. The only problem is that you won't be able to breathe until she is out of sight and out of mind. For a moment, you think about this, and then you say goodbye to breath, because saying goodbye to breath is better than saying goodbye to _her._

All night, you don't speak two words to her. She sits there, across from you, laughing and cutting in and talking quickly, but it is never directed to you, and you are fine just watching. Maybe your silence is a little unnatural, because of what your father says after he and Nora bicker good-naturedly over whose credit card will pay the bill, and like a properly-raised girl Nora backs down after a polite amount of "Oh, Georgie, please, I've got it," after you scamper out of your seat and offer a hand to one McDonald daughter and then the other, after you follow the ladies to their car and watch as they pull away. After all this has happened, your father turns to you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Derek," he says, "I'm proud of you, and a little bit surprised. You acted… normal. Thank you."

You're not sure whether that's intended as a compliment or not, and so you don't reply.

--

On a Tuesday you're back at Smitty's and this time you've prepared yourself better. You plan not to look up until Casey – a name that doesn't suit her – slides into her spot in the booth, so as not to be unintentionally seduced by her bare legs that go on forever. You also plan to lift your menu at the exact moment she looks at you, so that her smile bounces off plastic and won't reflect on your face. Lastly, you've set out to prove that you aren't _completely_ arrogant, but that you aren't a pushover and she has her work cut out for her if she expects you to be anything more than what you are.

The first part of your plan works until your eyes slide to the side without your permission. She isn't wearing a skirt this time, but her legs are sheathed in dark blue jeans rolled up once around the cuffs, and her sweater hugs her waist until you can't decide which is worse – the dress that left everything to the imagination, or this, that didn't?

"Hello, Derek," she says finally, and you jerk involuntarily in your seat. She looks at you with confusion as you all but leap from the vinyl bench.

"Bathroom," you mutter, because you're not sure you can survive the tempest whirling in your stomach, and then you're gone before your dad can even give his permission.

By the time you get back your food has come – a stack of buttermilk pancakes, just the way you like them, peppered with chunks of crushed chocolate chips. You're not sure you want to eat, but you know that if you don't you won't have an excuse to avoid her eyes so keenly. She keeps watching you, and you can feel it, but you relentlessly shovel bite after bite into your mouth, staring at your plate with such concentration you're surprised the porcelain doesn't shatter across the table.

The next thing you know someone is talking and your plate is being removed, and the entire restaurant is watching as your father takes Nora's hands in both of his, squeezing them and staring earnestly into her eyes. You know what's coming, and you're horrified, but there is nothing you can do to stop the avalanche when it begins to fall. You only catch snippets of his spiel, and you don't really care very much, because you can feel the horrified look growing on your face as "Nora" and "love" and "marry" come together into one big exclamation in your head. Of course the answer is yes, and your teeth clench so tightly you can feel your jawbone breaking.

"Aren't you happy?" Casey asks after celebration cake is cut and you force down two pieces. You can feel the scowl pulling down the corners of your mouth and are tempted to say something incredibly rude in return, but all you can come up with on the spot like this has to do with her mother, whom you do actually like as long as she's not marrying your father and putting Casey permanently off-limits.

You start to say, "Of course," but change it at the last second to, "No. I'm not happy. I don't want a bunch of stuck-up women living in my house, eating my food and otherwise ruining my life."

There is really no reason for you to have said that; after all, you have never spoken two words to Casey in the past and you _like_ Nora. But once it's out you know there's no going back, and so you fold your arms across your chest and stare directly at Casey McDonald. This is the first glimpse you get of your future – an icy stare on her face as she folds her arms as well, turning her back on you and all you represent. She is thoroughly disgusted by you and you can tell by her face that she wants nothing more than to hit you where it would hurt the most. You almost tell her to, but then you stop. You're not that self-sacrificing.

And you're afraid that if you do, she'll fall into you and you'll have no choice but to kiss her until you both die of asphyxiation.

--

The wedding is on a Wednesday and you're not ready. It's been just you guys – and Marti – for as long as you can remember, and gaining three new women at once seems like kind of too much to you.

It isn't a big affair; just the family and a witness on both sides and one of London's judges officiates the union. Nora doesn't wear a white dress, but Casey does, and you wonder at the significance. You wonder if there _is_ significance, because you're wearing dark jeans and your black leather jacket, and you contrast so totally with her as you stand side-by-side. Marti leans against one of your legs, sighing heavily until you bend down to her level and let her whisper in your ear, "I'm _bored."_You tell her that it will be over soon and just to be patient, but Marti is still too young to do patient and you're eternally grateful when Casey offers her hand and leads Marti to a side table, producing a colouring book from who knows where.

She doesn't look at you even once the entire time, and even though you feel like vomiting, your stomach is clenching so hard, you can barely take your eyes away from her. After, when the marriage license is paid for – thirty five dollars, not so very bad – and the judge leaves the newly blended family, you look up to see Edwin pointing at something and Lizzie shaking her head when she knows he's bluffing. You see Marti and Casey in the corner, colouring mermaids on opposite pages. You see your father and Nora holding hands and smiling and talking with their friends who witnessed the signatures, and you feel like the odd man out. You've never been the odd one out before.

Something is changing and even though you aren't sure what it is, you know it's time to act. A lack of acknowledgement is not something you're used to, and so you say loudly, "Can we eat now? I'm _starving._" No one responds but Casey looks up and her eyes are narrowed and she has a look of disgust on her face, and all you can think is _mission accomplished._

You do go to Smelly Nellie's for burgers and chili fries a little while later, all of you, a family, but Casey is still wearing that white dress and you can see the dark shadow of her cleavage in the v-cut neck of the top. When she takes a bite of her burger – tofu, of course, because she hates ground beef; the look, the feel, the taste, everything – a blob of ketchup slides from the bun to the bottom of the patty and hangs precariously over her lap. For a brief second you consider warning her, but then it's too late and the red drop is falling and it lands directly on her dress. You can see her eyes widening and her jaw hanging open and suddenly you're laughing and you just can't stop.

She's more than attractive when she's angry, and the way she says your name ("Der-_ek!"_) makes you laugh even harder, because you would be so in for it if she ever guessed what is going through your head. There are a thousand fantasies that you've been entertaining for days and now that she's right upstairs in the room across from yours, you know that those fantasies will be evolving into ones inappropriate in context of siblings. Then again, even though the paper now declares you related, you know she'll never be your sister, not when you think about her like this.

Lizzie's a good kid, you can tell already, and you're sure you'll like her right away. When she challenges you to the video game in the corner of the diner, you agree instantly, and for the first time you pass up dessert in favour of creaming her ass at _Grassland._ The guns are big and she manoeuvres them with skill that you envy, and when her total score turns out to be only ten points below yours you exchange grins with her and congratulate her, high-fiving in a way you've never high-fived Ed. The high-five turns into a complex series of bumps and finger twiddling until you've formed your own secret handshake, and you suddenly wonder whether having another little sister isn't so bad.

Before you head back to your table you look up and meet Casey's eyes as they stare venomously at you, and you lean over to whisper to Lizzie, "What got shoved up her butt?"

"She doesn't like you," Lizzie answers very seriously. "She thinks that you're conceited and rude and a pig." You wonder why 'attractive' isn't on the list, and then Lizzie adds, "But I like you, Derek. I've never had a brother before, and now I get two!"

Casey's face is in your head when you think, "I already have a sister; I don't want another one," but you don't say it out loud.

--

You hate Thursdays the most because they're always bad luck. They come when you're least looking – the day the McDonalds move in; double English with Casey and the lovesick look she gets during Shakespeare or Wuthering Heights; the assignment outfit that makes you threaten every guy to look at her with the same look you're wearing; the day Casey asks Sam out. You can't figure out what it _is_ about Thursdays, but if another one never came you'd be the happiest guy alive.

Living with Casey has had fewer rewards than you'd hoped for – you never catch her changing with her door cracked open, and she's taken to bringing her pajamas with her when she showers every night. Aside from her project on Babe Raider, after the dress she wore to the wedding you've never seen any more cleavage, either. There haven't been many opportunities to tease her in the house – she's like the perfect daughter in every way and it annoys you to no end because you know you've never been to your father what Casey is to Nora. It isn't until school starts that you finally start to gain back some lost ground. Your friends don't like Casey more than you – except Sam, but he moved past that ages ago – and the negative reputation she carries around her affects you only a little, generally by making your popular one shine brighter.

When her grades attract attention at the dinner table, you know best how to redirect the attention onto yourself, regaling the family with tales of her glorious social mishaps. Maybe it's rude but it's the only way you can get her to look at you with any semblance of passion. It's hard to dream about her when she won't give you the time of day.

She takes over your house and your best friend in only a few months, and suddenly your baby sister is running to Casey for bedtime stories instead of you. When you complain Casey sniffs and tells you it's because Marti's growing up and it's about time she had some girly company in her life. Even though Lizzie's cool with you she always sides with Casey and sometimes it stings. In retaliation, you're harder on Edwin than you were before the ratio of X and Y chromosomes overbalanced, but now she's defending Edwin and the kid is growing himself a backbone, and you know that your reign in London is coming to an end. The funny thing is, though, you don't really care so much.

Sometimes in the school cafeteria, you can feel yourself staring at her through the crowd and though you try to look away, it's like something else is controlling your body and you're just along for the ride. After Sam and Casey choose to end it for good, both Sam and Ralph are there for you, and when they see your face change as she enters a room they sandwich you between them and distract you with everything they've got. It usually works, but sometimes you just play along because you don't know what else to do. It's not healthy, this obsession with your step-sister, but no matter what you try she won't get out of your head. The dreams are coming when you're awake, now.

The day after Sam and Casey mutually end their relationship, you ask the first girl to smile at you if she wants to catch a movie after dinner. She is pleasantly surprised and even though you don't know her name you feel relieved. Someone has to be dating _someone_ or your parents can't be married, because otherwise there is nothing stopping you from violating the sanctity of family. Also, you know that freedom will no longer exist if you make a move. Not only will Casey kill you but there will be locks on both your doors and you'll never be allowed alone together again. There is something to be said for playing the part of 'rude brother,' because no one expects you to knock. Day by day, it's getting harder for you to breathe, but no one else seems to notice and so you just keep trying.

--


End file.
